


In the Company of Demons

by yanyan_eggs



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Industrial Revolution, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanyan_eggs/pseuds/yanyan_eggs
Summary: After being forced out of her small farming town, and into the city, the young Miss Mozu swears an oath of revenge against that which stole away her old life: the massive new company called the Nohr Oil Trust. Rumors have circulated that the business is owned by vampires, which makes her task of destroying it much harder but much more justified.The heir to the Nohr Oil Trust, Xander, who is very much a vampire, almost falls victim to Mozu's bold plan of revenge, but instead agrees to let her speak to his father in an attempt to regain the home that she lost. As Mozu waits for the fateful meeting with Garon, she is swept up into the Nohr family's world: one of magic and mystery, finery and festivities, and most importantly secrecy.





	1. The Maid's Vendetta

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome!!! This fic is super self indulgent bc i love vampires and i love victorian era stuff so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!   
> Notes abt worldbuilding:  
> -it takes place in the northeastern USA bc i don't know enough about the industrial revolution in other parts of the world to make a good story anywhere else sorry;  
> -please don't count on 100% historical accuracy though i wrote this for fun ;~; like theres magic and stuff it's not real  
> -there exists lots and lots of mythology and legends surrounding vampires so I just kinda picked and chose which ones i wanted to use (superhuman strength and senses, aversion to silver, etc)

The tea tray gleamed in the candlelight of Hoshido Manor’s halls. The whole service, ornately designed with leafy whorls, was silver. The master of the house, a steel baron by the name of Sumeragi, had asked Mozu to bring in tea for the family and their guests. She was by far the least adroit amongst the household servants –the stack of teacups tottering before her was proof of her inexperience– but she would not be here for long. She had applied for this job for a reason, and said reason was waiting beyond the tall mahogany doors of the parlor. If all went according to plan, this would be her last day at Hoshido Manor.

Xander, heir to the Nohr Oil Trust, sat at the far end of the room, one leg crossed over his lap, an arm draped over the top of the sofa upon which he sat. His face betrayed his casual posture, however, brow furrowed and mouth drawn in a sharp line, gazing intently at the lady of the house as she spoke. 

He cast a fleeting glance in Mozu’s direction. She had never seen him before, only heard him spoken of while preparing for his stay. He had a firm, cleanly-cut jawline and prominent brow, but his soft brown eyes lent his face a youthful charm. He had made a clear effort to brush and oil his wavy hair, but a stray lock framed one side of his face as if in playful rebellion of his austere attitude. In fact, the only thing that prevented him from being truly handsome in her eyes was his almost sickly pale complexion. He, who was linked to the Hoshido Steel Trust through business ties, was the reason Mozu had taken this job.

The lady of the house, Mikoto, paused. “I see the tea is ready,” she said, “Please pour out for us, Mozu.”

She had barely taken her eyes off the stern-faced heir enough to notice the master and mistress of the house sharing a couch and the five Hoshido children perched on ottomans and chairs all around them.

Mozu nodded deferentially, and set cups of tea down near each of them. In pouring the tea, she saved Xander’s service for last. That fateful touch of his hand to the cup would determine her plans for the night. At last, she reached him, hands trembling as she delivered him his tea. A thought drifted through her mind. Why did these wealthy people demand tea before bed? Milk had a much more calming effect. It was all the better for her, though, as, to the best of her knowledge, one rarely drank milk from silver teacups. 

She finished filling the cup, and a scalding drop slipped down the teapot’s spout and fell to the ground. It was not her most masterful job of pouring tea, but that didn’t matter. She lingered, tense, by his side.

“Cream, please,” he said.

“Of course,” Mozu said quickly, and fetched the pitcher of cream, praying that he did not brush even a finger against the cup’s handle during the moment her back was turned to him. She poured the cream just as hastily, then retreated backwards toward the small table on which she had placed the tray. Several pairs of eyes turned towards her, noticing her awkward backwards gait.

The air was tense. The only sound was a slight whispering among the children. Mikoto cleared her throat. Xander had not touched the tea.

“Mozu,” Mikoto said.

She froze, fearing that she would be asked to leave before the moment of destiny arrived.

“Stay by the tea tray, if you will,” she said. 

Mozu let out a soft breath. 

“Please refill our cups if asked. I presume there’s enough left for seconds?”

“Absolutely, Lady Hoshido,” Mozu said, and stood up straight.

Xander reached for his teacup. He doubtless knew he was watching her and had already deduced that she was suspicious of him. As to the source of her suspicions, he would only know it if he was guilty.

Mozu held her breath.

There it was.

It was a flinch, a pursing of the lips as he drank the tea. Xander was a good actor, but he could not completely cover up the pain caused by touching silver.

Although she had anticipated this moment for months, Mozu still did not feel as if it was real. Her head swam as the voices of those present at the meeting blended together. A beast sat across the room from her, one whose family had caused her more suffering than she could bear, one whose very nature diametrically opposed all things good, safe, and holy. This man could likely tear her in half with his own two hands. He probably would not even feel remorse if he did. 

She snapped back into the moment when she felt herself wobbling as she stood, knees trembling and feet shifting from side to side under her weight. She had a plan, and she had the materials, she reminded herself. Her actions tonight would bring about a great good. A great revenge.


	2. The Creature of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for a switch in perspective! btw the chapters from here on out will switch between Mozu and Xander's perspective but all will be in 3rd person dont worry

Xander woke to the overpowering smell of garlic. 

He knew immediately that this was a murder attempt; he had been through this before. Some seventy years ago, a young man had figured out the secret of the Nohr family, and snuck into Xander’s room at night with the stake and the garlic and the vial of holy water and all the usual accoutrements. The man was quickly overpowered, and was bolted up in a broom closet until morning, when Xander took him to Garon. Although Xander would have had the man cursed using magic to never speak of the Nohr family again and then thrown out, his father demanded he die, as his blood could serve as food for the coming weeks. Back then, Xander was immature, and he was weak, and a human had paid the price for his hesitance. This time would be different, however. He would deal with the intruder himself, and nobody would die.

“Hold,” he said, clearing his throat and sitting slowly up in bed. 

“I– I’m not afraid of you,” came the voice of the intruder. Xander started. It was a soft, high-pitched voice, and quite youthful.

Slowly, he sat up. In the dim moonlight, he could make out the figure of a small woman in the Hoshido family maid’s uniform. It was the servant who had brought tea that evening, the one who had her eyes glued on him all throughout his conversation with the Hoshido family, watching for his reaction to the touch of silver. He had been so preoccupied with appearing nonchalant at the time that he had never examined her features: she was short, even more so than his youngest sister, and more stockily built. She had a round face and wide brown eyes. Had he been paying closer attention to her that evening, he would have immediately realized that she was not a domestic servant by trade– her inexpertly tied hair and tanned skin discredited any notion that she might have been working indoors in a wealthy, refined household all her life.

She was trembling slightly, a long silver-plated stake clasped in her hands. “I’m not afraid of you,” she repeated.

Xander sighed. “You should be. Seeing as you have clearly deduced that I and my immediate family members are vampires, you should know how difficult it is to overpower me.”

The woman’s grip tightened around the stake, but she did not move.

“Now, if you would please hand that to me, I’ll see that you escape safely. You’ll need to come back to Nohr Mansion with me tomorrow so that my brother can cast a curse on you, but I assure you that ultimately your body and mind will both be unharmed.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What? No–”

He climbed out of bed and approached her, holding out his hand for the stake. The woman made a motion to drive it through his palm, but his hand darted out of the way and swiftly rent it from her grasp. The silver burned his hands, but he could easily bear it, especially considering that it would have taken his life had the smell of garlic not awoken him.

The woman froze. “Please don’t kill me,” she whispered after a moment.

Xander couldn’t help but smile. “As I said previously, I do not intend to harm you. But I do ask that you not leave this room until morning. To prevent your leaving, I will stand vigil at the door. You may sleep in the guest bed if you need to.”

A defiant glimmer flared in her eyes. “You’ll fall asleep,” she said, “I’d bet on it.”

He sighed. “Vampires need very little sleep,” he began, “and said needs are almost exclusively satisfied during the day, just as humans feel it natural to sleep at night. Had the consumption of human food last night not made me feel dreadfully drowsy, I would have been wide awake, and you would not have gotten nearly this far.” A quip rose to his lips about how her knowledge of vampires was clearly based only on superstition, accompanied by the urge to finger the tarnished crucifix she wore around her neck or examine the salt she had sprinkled at his bedside, but he immediately quashed the ungentlemanly thoughts. This poor girl was only just regaining her breath, and it would be incredibly rude to frighten her again.

“So you’re goin’ to curse me?” she said, straightening her back in a fruitless attempt at dominance.

“My brother Leo will, to be exact,” Xander replied, “Nothing drastic; I only want to ensure that you never speak of our secret to anyone. Granted, he may include some rather… unpleasant side effects as retribution for the attempt on my life, but I’ll ask that any such additions be temporary.”

“You’re a monster,” the woman said, stomping her foot, “You’re all evil monsters.”

He gritted his teeth and glanced downwards, but quickly looked up at the door which was to be his station for the rest of the night. “Maybe so,” he said quietly.

“Wait,” she said, “Hear me out.”

“What?” Xander said, growing irritated as he walked over to the door and sat down before it. “What have you to say?” He dropped the stake to the floor in front of him and examined the reddened skin on his hand.

“A whole lot!” she said, “You must know that your being a monster isn’t the only reason I want you dead.”

His lips pursed at hearing the present tense of  _ want _ , but he quickly looked back up into her eyes. “Preposterous,” he said, “I have never met you, much less caused you any harm worthy of such revenge.”

“Oh, yes, you have!” she said, taking a seat on the guest bed. “Before the Trust you’re heir to gained so much money, I used to live in a little countryside town. All day long, we would farm the land and tend to our animals, and at night we would hold dances and dinners and read stories by the fireside. And the best part was that I knew everyone in my town. I don’t know a single soul in the city, and the closest acquaintances I have are the other servants here in this dreadful seaside mansion. You’d think I’d like it better here in the lap of luxury, but I’ve gotten real tired of these rich folks who go around stepping on us poor folks and never sharing a penny of what they have.”

He was grateful that the woman did not seem frightened anymore. “But what of the other townspeople? Surely you’re still acquainted with them.”

She shook her head violently. “When we all moved to the city, people went to wherever they could find work. My grandmother stayed with me when I got a factory job, but the smog from the smokestacks made her sick and I couldn’t afford medicine with my measly salary.” She jutted her chin up a bit, a clear challenge to Xander. “So now she’s dead, and I have Nohr to thank for the fact.”

He still had no idea why he was at fault for this grandmother’s passing. “Pardon me if this question is out of turn, miss, but why did you not simply stay in your town? Farming is not a terribly unprofitable lifestyle.”

She glared at him, eyes like daggers. “Why didn’t we stay in the town, you ask? Only because your family thought it was a good idea to drill for oil right underneath us, so you bought our land and promptly tore it apart. When I heard there was a job opening for a servant at a rich industrialist’s house, I seized my chance because I know you or your father would come here someday. And somehow I’ll get my revenge, and I’ll stop you from walking over even more innocent people, no matter how much you try to scare me away.”

Xander was quiet for a moment. The poor girl had been through a lot, but there was little he could do. “I’m very sorry,” he said softly.

“I don’t want your condolences, devil,” she said.

“Of course not,” Xander said, “but my father would never steal land from commoners– you must understand that it was rightfully sold to us by its owner, and there’s likely plenty of farmland remaining. Is it not partially the fault of the local government officials for agreeing to convert town property to an oil drilling site?”

“You make me sick,” the woman groaned, “Of course some officials would take the money in exchange for the town, but nobody even thought for a second to care about us townsfolk.”

“Touché,” Xander said, “We had only our best interests, and those of progress, in our hearts. My plans are unchanged, though. You will drive back to Nohr Mansion, see my brother, then return home tomorrow.”

The woman sighed, exasperated, then flopped down onto the bed and nestled under the covers.

“Miss,” Xander said, “Before you settle down fully, could I bother you to take a bit of my cologne onto your person? There is a bottle of it on the desk next to my notebook.”

“Why?”

“It’s the garlic,” he replied, “You smell… dreadful.”

She didn’t get up, only turned over resolutely in the bed. “You ARE dreadful,” she said, “Your very being is. And I have a name that isn’t just ‘Miss.’ It’s Mozu.”

Xander took a long but shallow breath. The smell was making his eyes water, but he chose to bear it until the afternoon of the next day, when she could take a bath at Nohr Mansion. “Very well, Miss Mozu. Sleep tight.”


	3. A Deal With a Vampire

Mozu did not feel comfortable riding back in a fancy carriage with a vampire in the seat next to her. She had given in to exhaustion the previous night, and awoken, to her surprise, with all of her blood remaining inside of her body. However, she was headed to a house in which dwelt not one but at least three vampires: Xander, Xander’s brother Leo, Mr. Garon Nohr, and any mother or other siblings in the aforementioned “immediate family.”

“Somehow I’ll find a way to kill you,” she said resolutely, more to herself than to the man sitting next to her, “Your father first, maybe, as he’s the one who’s most responsible for my town getting destroyed. I’ll admit, I had my doubts for a second about your evilness, Xander, because you seem like a mighty nice fellow from how you treated me last night, but I remembered the fact that you feed off people and all my doubts flew away.” She jutted her chin up into the air, hoping that the little gesture would project confidence.

Xander had not said a word to Mozu ever since the start of the trip, gazing, probably in some show of aloofness, out the window rather than making conversation like good people did. “I would reconsider the intent to kill us,” he said coolly, “Even my smallest sister, youthful though she may be, could snap your neck with her bare hands; that great is our might.” He seemed to suppress a smile at these words– Mozu wondered if he found the thought of her dying at the hands of a child demon entertaining.

“Hmph,” Mozu said, “Go ahead. No matter how hard you curse me, I’ll come back, and I’ll put a stop to your evilness. If you kill me, then someone else will come in my wake. Your end will come about sooner than you think.”

Xander adjusted his hands on his lap, but still did not look at her. He had etiquette enough for eye contact, but Mozu guessed he didn’t think a poor girl who wanted to kill him was worth his haughty gaze. “Why do you think as much?” he asked.

“I think as much because vampires are evil. You are evil, your father is evil, your company is evil, and your brother and whole family is evil too. And before too long, all evil gets snuffed out, and light and kindness prevail over darkness.”

“Your tenacity cannot be denied, Miss Mozu,” he said, “Would I that the truths of morality were as simple as you describe. Few creatures on earth can be described using your metaphor of light and darkness, and neither you nor I are among them.”

She fixed her eyes on his pale countenance as if challenging him to turn away from the window and look at her. “Your lofty rambling won’t work on me,” she snapped. “Drinking human blood is unholy, and killing one that does so is holy. Unless you deny that you’re a vampire, that is.”

“I do not,” he said. They were travelling through a poorer part of the city now, no doubt an unavoidable section between the Hoshido seaside mansion and the Nohr mansion on the outskirts of town. “Nor do I deny that it was unthoughtful of my father to buy your little town before first securing employment and compensation for the citizens. Granted, I do believe that the city is an excellent place to move, as the spirit of progress dwells in our factories.”

“Hold on a second,” Mozu said, “So you do agree with me. That stealing our town was a really nasty thing to do.”

He turned to glance at her eyes. His brow was furrowed, and for a cunning immortal monster, his hesitant expression was quite readable. “To some degree, yes,” he said. “But I do not believe my father’s actions deserve him murder in return. We could settle this financially if–”

“How about I make you a deal?” Mozu said.

He smiled wryly. “‘How’ you make me a deal is undoubtedly weakly, miss, as to my knowledge you don’t have any significant boons or banes to grant me which could affect me in the slightest. But offer the deal nevertheless; you’ve piqued my interest.”

She was getting somewhere; he had dropped his pretense of cold distance. “I petition your father for compensation, which’ll include funds to give my grandma a proper funeral and burial, you get to place your silly little curse on me, and in return I won’t try and kill anyone anymore, vampire or not.”

He laughed softly, not a cold laugh, but a small, mirthful chuckle. “I shall be completely honest with you, Miss Mozu; I have half a mind to grant your request out of pity. However, I am surprised that you do not realize how ruthless a man my father is.”

Mozu interrupted him. “He’s not a  _ man, _ he’s–”

“Small though you are,” he continued, “he will undoubtedly want to kill you for your blood. A young woman such as yourself walking into his office with such objections as your own is suicide. He would keep the whole thing silent too. He is an undoubtedly powerful and wise man, but I personally do not agree with his harshness towards humans.”

She didn’t like the reverent tone he used to speak of his father. If he was really not a creature of pure evil, instead part good and part bad as he said he was, then he shouldn’t hesitate to smite his father by his very hand for his crimes, not refer to him as powerful or wise. She cleared her throat. “Why don’t we just pretend I’m a vampire from the countryside? They live there too; I’ve heard stories.”

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows raised, then hesitated a moment before speaking again: “I don’t see why we couldn’t try that tactic. He sleeps every second Sunday from morning till dusk; during that time I will have the various non-precious items in his office replaced by cheaper replicas so that if he asks you to prove inhuman strength you may do so with ease.”

It was Mozu’s turn to raise her eyebrows at Xander’s proposition. “Cripes!” she said, “That must cost an awful lot.”

“I can afford it,” he said dismissively.

“While nobody else in this smelly city can afford food,” she grumbled, “but fine. Since you’ve got the money and don’t want to suck my blood out, I thank you for letting me appeal to your father.” She looked up at him with a suppressed smile and sighed. “I truly thought one of us would be dead by now,” she said.

He smiled at her and turned to the window again. “So did I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are plenty more chapters that i will upload soon, i just have to edit them! sadly editing isn't as fun as writing


	4. The Little Beacon of Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the other Nohr siblings!!!

When Mozu arrived at Nohr Mansion, Xander ensured that she was treated entirely as his guest. Despite her requests to eat with the servants, and to remain in her ragged dress, he poured every effort into keeping up the lie: Mozu was a three hundred year old vampire, a modest farmhand by day and the scourge of her home county by night. Rather than drink her fill every few weeks as did most of Xander’s friends and acquaintances, she preyed on townspeople each night, taking only small amounts of blood as to not kill any of her food sources. This explanation for her permanently ruddy cheeks and healthy figure asked that Xander furnish her with a small tin bottle full of cranberry juice that she was to sip from every few hours. Mozu the Vampire had spent so much time in the sun that she no longer burned easily, and had instead acquired a warm tan. This lie, though slightly less plausible, required no additional efforts on Xander’s part.

Mozu clearly disliked playing this character, but she never complained and kept a good humor about it all. Nobody knew of her true identity save for Xander and his siblings. All three went along willingly with his charity operation. Only Leo had shown some skepticism at the prospect, but he stopped worrying once Xander assured him that his plans would have no adverse consequences on him.

He introduced them personally the morning after Mozu arrived at Nohr Mansion. “My siblings,” he said, standing at the door with the roughly clad Mozu by his side, “This is the young lady I told you about last night, Miss Mozu. Miss Mozu, these are Camilla, Leo, and Elise.”

“What a darling!” exclaimed Camilla.

“Wow,” Elise said, “She’s one of those ladies who you don’t know if she’s fifteen or thirty!”

“ _ Whom, _ ” Camilla corrected her softly.

“I-I’m twenty,” Mozu said, clearly affronted but not letting go of Xander’s arm.

“Oh, so you’re my age!” Camilla said, “Or my physical age, that is. I am two hundred eleven in truth.” She patted the sofa cushion beside her. “Do come sit next to me, dear.”

Mozu left Xander’s side and sat stiffly down next to Camilla.

“She is not a very convincing vampire,” Leo said, “so I do hope that web of lies you created will stand, Xander.”

“I too,” he said, sitting down in a high-backed chair.

“I trust you will take her dress shopping?” he continued, “The bath you ordered for her yesterday clearly did some help, but her clothes still stink of garlic.”

Camilla nodded forlornly.

“Oh, may I go dress shopping with you, Mozu?” Elise asked, “They’ve got so many pretty colors this week at the corner tailor shop and I know they’re going to change soon, so may I, pretty please?”

“Yes!” Mozu said with a smile, “If Xander allows it?” She turned to him, eyes bright and wide.

“Of course,” Xander said, “Between she and I, Elise is much the more knowledgeable of ladies’ high fashion, and I do want you to fit in well at the mansion.” He knew perfectly well that even in the finest silks, Mozu would still seem out of place among high society due to her rough-hewn mannerisms alone, but felt she might enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime trip such as this. Besides, she would look quite pretty all dressed up.

“What else must we do?” he said.

“We shouldn’t neglect the curse,” Leo said, “I’ve decided against putting extra punishments into the spell, unless Miss Mozu has a change of heart with regard to the deal she made with you yesterday.”

“Gee, you’re speaking like I’m not even here, Mr. Leo!” Mozu said, a bit hotly but with clear humorous intent. “And no, I haven’t had any changes of heart; I’m not going to try and kill you unless you four decide that I’m food.”

Camilla laughed and gave her hand a squeeze. “We wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, “Although you may be weak, and your lifespan may be oh so short, we buy any and all blood bottled off the black market.”

“The more expensive, the more delicious!” Elise said with a grin.

“Yes,” said Leo, “our father’s habits of murdering opponents and transgressors is purely–”

“Miss Mozu,” Xander said, interrupting his brother. She was staring fixedly at the ground, one arm wrapped around her stomach; the topic was clearly making her uncomfortable. “Is there anything you need to tell my father about the night before last, or could we perform the curse during the two weeks before your meeting?”

“No,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve got anything I need to say about that night. But would you mind telling me how this curse works? It sounds mighty scary, if I’m honest with myself.”

“Gladly,” he replied. “After the magic spell is complete, you will be unable to speak of the events that transpired that night. Memory spells used to be a much more popular tool of silencing, but they are incredibly easy to break, whereas silencing spells such as the one we have planned for you are harder to perform but do not break as easily. The spirits Leo invokes in his magic are good judges of character, so the process should be painless. Unless, of course, your heart is secretly evil as you believe mine to be?” He crossed his legs and shot her a sarcastic smile.

“I have yet to make up my mind about your heart, Mr. Nohr,” Mozu said, “I think myself a fine judge of character just like your brother’s magic ghosts and bogeymen. So you, sir, must prove yourself in the days to come if you want me to change my mind completely about you.”

“Smart girl,” Camilla said, wrapping an arm around Mozu and caressing her shoulder, “I like you already.”

“Sister,” Leo hissed, “you needn’t act so uncultured just because our guest is unacquainted with gentle etiquette.”

“Oh, do relax, Leo,” she said, “This girl is not a high society lady, she is a murderous human staying with us in disguise for a span of two weeks, so we may treat her however we wish.”

Mozu’s eyes were wide and she was blushing red, clearly flustered. Nevertheless, he sympathized with Camilla. Mozu, like all humans, was warm and full of life, and aside from the servants and the occasional visitor, friend, or trading partner, the four siblings had little contact with humans. He realized that all of his siblings were looking at him, waiting for his response. She was  _ his _ guest, after all.

“Miss Mozu is neither a house guest of high esteem nor a criminal taking refuge,” he said slowly, “She is herself, and I ask that you three use your own judgement about how to treat her.”

“That I will do!” said Elise, “I hope we can become very good friends, Mozu!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact this fic was inspired partially by the book Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte! It's not a parody or rewrite it just gave me some ideas and inspiration 8)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this short chapter and more Camilla, Leo, and Elise to come!


	5. The Life of the Nohr Siblings

The first night spent in Nohr Mansion –effectively a den of vampires– was incredibly stressful for Mozu. By the second day, however, her fears were beginning to relax the more she came to know the four children. They all seemed like very tidy, polite people, far from the type of monster who would creep up on you in the night and leave you dead in a pool of your own blood. 

However, Mozu had not yet seen the master of the house, Garon. Xander’s words about his power and cunning were the closest she had heard to affection from his children. Even then, Xander seemed to regard him not with love, but with a cold, sensible respect for his virtues and admiration for his accomplishments and ambitions. Aside from his undoubtedly being the great and powerful man Xander spoke of, Garon seemed an incredibly mysterious and frightful figure to Mozu, like a great shadow over Nohr Mansion.

Luckily, the children were different. That afternoon, Camilla and Elise took Mozu to the tailor to order dresses made just for her. By Xander’s orders, she was to fit in at Nohr Mansion, despite being just a country girl.

“Ooh!” Elise said, bending over a bolt of delicate lilac brocade, “This would look perfect for her ball gown; don’t you think so, Camilla?”

“Elise!” Camilla hissed, “Don’t you remember what we promised Xander?”

She turned to Mozu, eyes wide. “Oops,” she said, “Forget I said anything!”

Mozu fixed her with a determined stare. “Why do I need a ball gown?” she asked. The tailor was busy measuring her arms, so she tried to remain still as she spoke.

“I– I told you to forget it!” she said, blushing. “I mean, all fancy ladies have to have ball gowns, right? So it’s nothing odd.”

“We might as well tell her,” Camilla said with a sigh. She fingered a piece of glossy orange silk as she spoke. “The Hoshido family is hosting a charity ball on Saturday, all proceeds going to the building of a new library in the city’s upper west quarter. Gossip spreads like the black death among the social circles of which I am a part, and your presence in our household is no secret. Many people will know by Saturday that we are harboring a little poor girl in our care, and it would reflect quite favorably upon our reputation if you attended the dance with us, dressed nicely and exhibiting proper manners.”

Her eyes widened. “So you’re saying I’ve got to come to your party with you? And act all proper?”

“We won’t force you,” Camilla said, turning to give her a smile. “We kept it secret because we thought you were troubled enough without another event on your figurative horizon to worry about. If you agree to attend, we will teach you how to dance, how to behave, how to act around gentlemen, and all else that you will need to know.”

“Sure, I’ll go,” Mozu said, “I figure all the other guests’ll understand if I’m a bit rough, no?”

“Yay!” Elise said, “Will you dance with me, Mozu? I can do the gentleman’s part; Leo taught me how.”

Mozu laughed. “Of course, Elise.”

“Your measurements are finished, Miss Mozu,” said the tailor, coiling up her tape measure.

“Thanks,” she replied with a smile.

“Now it’s time to pick out the fabrics,” Camilla said. “I’ve taken the liberty of selecting three for your regular dresses, but you should pick the ball gown’s fabric yourself.”

“Okay,” Mozu said, eyes roaming about the vast display on the wall. Bolts of every color hung, some patterned, some plain. A bright red silk with embroidered flowers and a sharp chartreuse taffeta were by far the most eye-catching, but her eyes fell instead upon a bolt of muslin which was a pale olive green, like the underside of a spring leaf. She was too short to reach up and feel it, but it looked soft. “I do like that light green color,” she said after a while.

“It suits you,” said Camilla, and went to go speak with the tailor.

Elise turned to her, eyes sparkling. “So,” she said, “Are you excited for the ball now? There’s going to be lots and lots of people, and I’m friends with almost all of them. The Hoshido family’s hosting, so the mood should be… hmm, solemn but nice, like nobody’s gossipping nasty things at the tables and the hostess is really genuinely happy that we’re there. I should mention the food too, which is always fantastic at balls like these. They’ve got imported tea, delicate little refreshments, all kinds of cakes, and if there’s a full meal included in the party then it’s always fantastic because the servants put tons of love into that stuff. The music is–”

“Ladies,” Camilla said, interrupting Elise, “It is time to go. Miss Mozu has an appointment with our magician friend this evening, and we musn’t be late.” She winked at her.

Truth be told, Mozu was slightly nervous about Leo’s curse. She had little experience with magic; it was a hobby practiced almost exclusively by wealthy folks, and as she bustled out the door and into the waiting carriage, what-ifs began to fill her head about that evening.

Camilla and Elise, however, clearly had something else on their minds. Now that the upcoming ball was not kept secret from Mozu anymore, they talked at length about it.

“And among all those faces,” Camilla was saying, “my lady love will be there.”

“You mean Hinoka?” Elise said.

Camilla sighed. “Yes. Ours is such a tragic fate, is it not? I love her, and she clearly loves me, but I can’t tell her that because she is a human. The poor creature will be dead and gone in a matter of years.”

“That is sad,” Elise said, “But at least you get to spend time with her now! I’m excited for the ball because Sakura and Takumi will be there. I hope they’ll still want to play with me even though they’re getting older… Camilla, do you remember that time the three of us snuck off to the servants’ hallways during the ball?”

“Ugh, how could I forget?” she said. “Once we found out you were missing, it took hours to find you. Sakura and Takumi eventually abandoned their hiding spots because they had to go to bed, but we found you curled up in the dumbwaiter in the wee hours next morning. Remarkable patience you showed.”

“Heheh, didn’t I? I’m much more mature than you think!”

She sighed and smiled. “Mozu,” she said resolutely, “what are your thoughts on the upcoming ball? Are you anticipating it happily?”

“Truth be told,” Mozu said, “the ball doesn’t matter much to me. I’m more concerned with my meeting with your father.”

Camilla squeezed her shoulder. “Brave young lady,” she said, “I know you’ll do fine in front of him. You have quite a charm that I doubt even he could overlook. Oh, would you look outside? We’re home.”

A servant hurriedly ushered Mozu through the main door, muttering something about the young master Leo growing impatient. As she rushed down the halls in the servant’s wake, she wondered idly about which servants knew that their masters were vampires, if any.

Finally, she reached a door that was decorated differently from the rest of those in the mansion: it bore no nameplates, no filigree was carved into it, not even was there a discreet sign marking it a water closet as Mozu had seen on some doors. It was bare wood, with only a piece of threadbare fabric hung haphazardly over the frame. The servant knocked, and the door opened of its own accord, revealing the room within.

_ Now this is what vampires’ homes were meant to look like, _ Mozu decided. It was dimly lit by pulsating yellow orbs of light that hung in the air. Shadows danced across the walls that seemed to have no source. Shelves all around were stacked high with mildewing books, vials of unknown liquids, and all shapes and sizes of pots and pans that were undoubtedly used for potions and poisons. There were no windows and no breeze, but pieces of old cloth hanging from nails on the walls fluttered and undulated slightly.

At the center of the room was Leo, sitting at a rickety wooden table, hunched over a vast book. “Please excuse this room’s appearance,” he said without looking up. “As you’ve heard, I use dark spirits when casting spells, and the general ambience of the room in which I cast my most complicated ones is deliberately set to suit their preferences–” he gave a quick glance around, “–completely adverse though it may be to mine.”

From that afternoon, Mozu had heard that Leo regularly taught Elise magic, and hence gathered that she must be learning in this room. The thought of such a lively young girl studying demonic magic in a room like this made her giggle, which earned her a sharp glare from Leo.

“Most summoning and memory spells I can perform wherever necessary,” he said, “but a silencing spell is much more difficult, so it helps if my dark spirits feel at home before I cast it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes,” Mozu said with a smile, “I understand.”

“Good,” Leo said, standing up, “Now let’s get this over with.” He gestured towards a small depression in the rough concrete floor. “Stand there.”

Mozu obeyed silently.

“You have no cause to be afraid,” Leo said, before clearing his throat. He began to mutter incantations, fingers fluttering as if tracing over the words of some spellbook.

The curtains, if they could be called as much, fluttered, then began to flap faster and faster; the ground began to tremble; disembodied voices began hissing and howling in a steady crescendo. With a yelp, Mozu noticed that a slick black liquid had filled the depression beneath her feet and was beginning to lap up her ankles towards her calves. Shadows detached from the walls, swirling and darting to and fro. She lost sight of Leo through the fray, and began to make out faces and humanoid forms amongst the shadows instead. Something cold that felt like a hand pressed over her mouth, and she tried to cry out, but it muffled her voice; she looked down to see what it was, but there was nothing there.

The din stopped just as quickly as it had begun. Eddies of dust spiraled back down to the floor. Leo stood amidst the settling chaos, face blank and hair a bit tousled.

“A damn fine mood they are in today,” he muttered sardonically, brushing dust off his waistcoat. He looked up at Mozu. “What happened the night you tried to assassinate my brother? Tell me clearly, now.”

_ I crept into the guest room with a stake,  _ Mozu tried to say. However, her tongue was still. The breath that she intended to use in saying the words stopped in the middle of her throat.

“Good,” Leo said, turning back towards the table and closing his large magic book. “You may go, Mozu.”

She didn’t know whether or not to thank him, so she said nothing, and scurried out of the room. She had no intentions of visiting Leo’s chamber of evil ever again.


	6. To Love a Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I know this is just a silly little fic and it's not like I've been up all night toiling just to write it, but to the people who have left kudos and comments, thank you so so much they mean a lot to me! Even if it's not really something big or super well done, I'm a very busy person and this fic is part of what makes me happy in my free time, and seeing people enjoying it feels like I'm sharing some of that happiness so thank you! <3

Camilla’s grip on the silver needle was unfathomably precise. Her fingers were placed using the strictest care as to not prick herself– she used no thimble and her skin and fingernails were pristine. Nearly every stitch was perfect, and those that weren’t she quickly corrected. The threads formed a pattern of delicate green vines and pink flowers around the border of the handkerchief she embroidered.

Xander, watching her, wished he knew how to embroider. But to reach his sister’s skill level took hours upon hours of practice, and as the heir to his father’s company, he had little time to spend on such hobbies.

Mozu probably didn’t know how to embroider either, but he bet she knew how to sew clothes. He imagined she wore a quaintly focused expression when sewing, making many mistakes but starting over each time until the stitch was just right. At last, once the garment was perfect, she’d shake it out, beam with pride, then promptly give it to whomever she made it for. Maybe she’d wrap it up in paper first, and say “I made this just for you,” and maybe give them a kiss on the cheek because things were probably different like that in the countryside.

He was snapped of his musings by the soft sound of Camilla clipping the thread. The little vines now snaked all the way around the handkerchief; the border was finished.

“I appreciate your interest in my embroidery, Xander,” she said, “but you’ve a stack of business reports on your lap yet unread. Why are you out of sorts?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he said, picking up a folder and thumbing through the pages therein. “I’m just a bit drowsy.”

“Liar,” she said with a smirk, “You know as well as I that your focus is usually unbreakable as steel.”

He gritted his teeth. She was right, when it came to work, he was usually quite attentive. “So you’re finished decorating the handkerchief, I see,” he said.

She chuckled. “Change the subject if you like; I won’t pry. And no, I still have a bit more to do. There’s going to be a red flower in this corner, along with a message.”

Xander raised his eyebrows.

“It’ll say ‘To Hinoka, from Camilla. May you keep this gift as long as you live.’”

He furrowed his brow and grunted in disapproval. Camilla knew not to flirt with humans, she knew that no matter how much a human and a vampire cared for one another, the human would shrivel up and die in less than one hundred years and the vampire would be left alone with their grief. Furthermore, Hinoka was a member of a business partner’s family, and a lady of high standing. If Camilla let slip the Nohr family’s secret, their ruin would be nigh inevitable.

She smiled patiently at him as if waiting for a scolding.

Xander said nothing.

“When you look into a woman’s eyes,” Camilla said, “Can you not tell whether or not she loves you?” She put the little scissors back in her porcelain sewing box and withdrew a spool of red thread. Holding it in front of her, she turned it around, letting the soft light of the surrounding lamps shine on the thread and the wooden spool. “Or maybe you’ve just never met a girl that loves you before,” she said with a slight chuckle.

“I won’t partake in an argument about recognizing a woman’s love,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “but I do think this affair with the Hoshido family girl will leave you unhappy.”

“You  _ wound _ me,” she drawled, then began to unravel the red thread.

 

“Remember,” said Elise, tapping the back of Mozu’s chair, “you must sit up straight!”

“Okay,” she replied, stiffening her posture.

“Don’t say ‘okay,’” said Leo with an exasperated sigh, “A ‘yes, Elise,’ or ‘of course’ is far more polite.”

“Now, dear, don’t let your hand tremble like that with your teacup!” Camilla said, “You want to show the world just how gorgeous you are. Be confident!”

Xander cleared his throat and shut the door behind him. “What are all three of you doing here?” he said, storming over to the three of them all craned over the helpless Mozu. “We agreed that Camilla teach Miss Mozu etiquette today. It’s time for Elise’s magic lesson; Leo, what business have you here?”

“It is technically time,” said Elise, “but I didn’t feel like studying today and Leo doesn’t have the patience to teach me when I don’t feel like studying.”

“Nevertheless,” said Xander, “you needn’t spend this time bothering Miss Mozu. All three of you, please leave this room now. Since you three can’t seem to handle the task without overwhelming her, I’ll be in charge of Mozu for the afternoon!”

“With all due respect, brother,” said Leo, “you’ve only ever been educated on gentlemen’s manners; I don’t think you’d be the best teacher for a lady all by yourself.”

“There’s certain aspects of etiquette that everyone must know,” Xander huffed, “now leave poor Miss Mozu alone.”

The three left with varying degrees of dissatisfaction.

“You really saved me there,” Mozu said with a sigh, setting her teacup down on the table in front of her. “You people are a right force of nature when you’re all together.”

“Of that fact I am not ashamed,” Xander said, “except when said ‘force’ is channeled into abusing the innocent through excessive pedantry about etiquette.”

She smiled.

“It seems I’ll be your teacher today, then.”

“That’s fine by me!”

Of the four Nohr siblings, Mozu seemed to trust Xander the most. This came as somewhat of a surprise, considering he was almost universally regarded as the most intimidating. He supposed her trust must have been borne of the events following his attempted murder: he had ample time to drain her of her blood and dispose of her body, yet he had let her sleep peacefully, taken her back to Nohr Mansion, and granted her request to speak to Garon, as any gentleman would.

Gradually, the lesson on how to sip tea and properly intone one’s voice devolved into casual conversation.

“But why do you bother with all this?” Mozu asked, referring to the lesson. “Just plain speak and manners work just fine in keeping my sort out of trouble; why mustn’t I talk to a man who’s holding a cigar and why may I only lift up my dress with one hand when it’s muddy out?”

“It’s all incredibly arbitrary, I agree,” said Xander with a smile. “However, in order to be accepted by high society you must use these manners.”

“So,” Mozu said, knitting her eyebrows together and looking down at her lap, “many of these rules are a bunch of silly nonsense, but you’ve gotta know them if you want to be respected, therefore only the people who know these rules can get respected.”

“Say  _ may receive respect _ , not ‘can get respected,’” he corrected quietly.

“Sure, sure, okay,” Mozu said. “But only people who know how to read the silly rulebooks or have time enough to be taught them can know the rules, neither of which applies to most country fellows or poor folks. But since the rules were all made up in the first place, I suspect it’s a big ploy to keep common people from getting respected by the rich folk!”

It took Xander a long moment to form a response. He had never heard this viewpoint before. Furthermore, although he had grown accustomed to Mozu’s honest and upfront way of communication, this seemed particularly brash, though not unfounded.

“A valid assertion as to the origin of high society social etiquette,” he said, “but I spoke too freely in calling it all arbitrary. Some does, in fact, stem from concepts of modesty, compassion, and chivalry.”

“Oh, what’s modesty and compassion?” Mozu said, cheeks growing flushed, “You people tear up a village one day, then call a young lady impolite for walking to the fruit vendor’s shop across the street by herself.”

At this fervent display of passion Xander couldn’t help but laugh. “Touché, Miss Mozu,” he said, “It’s all pretense of politeness. You must know that I stand for true kindness, whether or not that aligns with gentle etiquette.”

“If you did, you’d years ago have told your father off for oil drilling and sucking the blood of innocents. You’ve had plenty of time to do it– what are you, four hundred years old?”

Xander sighed. “Two hundred thirteen,” he said.  _ And I will tell my father off, _ he wanted to say,  _ once I gain the courage to do so.  _ But he was silent, letting the conversation stagnate until Mozu spoke.

“I want to watch Elise’s magic lesson,” she said.

“Then that we shall do,” he replied, “if you don’t mind my coming along.” He stood, bowed, and offered his arm as if she was an esteemed guest at an exclusive and fancy ball. “Milady,” he said in a comically serious tone.

She stood, responding only with a markedly unladylike snort of laughter, and followed him out of the room. 


	7. Sparks to Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mozu has a change of opinion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually kind of like how this chapter came out. Hope you enjoy!! <3

The spirits swirled around Elise in a flurry of color, dark and light.

“Fantastic!” said Leo, eyes gleaming, “Elise, you’re really coming along!”

The majority of the shapes faded to shadow and retreated into the floor or onto the walls to watch, but one lingered, flickering red and black. It assumed a humanoid form for a moment, waving by Elise’s side until she gave it a playful pat on the head and it vanished into nothingness in a burst of dust.

“That could be an incredibly useful party trick,” Xander said with a smile.

“Thanks, Xander,” said Elise, then turned to Mozu. “What’d you think? Magic is lovely, isn’t it?”

Little Elise truly had performed magic. She had invoked dark spirits, and it hadn’t seemed evil at all.

“Leo,” she said, puffing her chest out and looking straight into his eyes, “please teach me magic!”

 

And so it came to be that Mozu studied magic along with dancing, speaking, and etiquette. She convinced herself that it was for self defense– once her village was rebuilt in the destroyed town, she could take up not the rifle, but playful spirits, in order to defend the town from bandits and wild animals. Deep down, however, she knew she was in it for the fun, for the flashing colors, flickering shadows, and bright sparks.

The first spell she learned was how to start a fire in the open air. She needed summon only one dark spirit, which flew by her in a gust of wind, igniting the air before her. Mozu was not attuned to the spirits’ whimsies and moods as Leo was, but she assumed in time she would be. With each passing day, the spark she created grew brighter, healthier, until one day a gas lamp in the hallway flickered out as she and Xander walked by, and she was able to quickly relight it with an incantation and a wave of her hand.

“The party guests will adore you,” Xander said, keeping his arm outstretched. Mozu was practicing how to walk with a slow gait and good posture when being presented to the ballroom. “Magic,” he continued, “is a refined art only practiced by the learned sort, and you’ve managed to learn a spell in but a few days. And you’ve learnt it well, if I may add.”

“It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” she said gloomily. Even the servants at Nohr Mansion were excited for the dance, but Mozu could barely spare it a thought. She reminded herself not to fidget with her clothes not for etiquette’s sake, but so that Garon could not read her lack of confidence. She learned to speak like a gentlewoman not to please any guests of the Hoshido family, but rather to earn Garon’s respect. In fact, watching Xander, and his siblings for that matter, dance and socialize while dressed in finery seemed the only thing to look forward to about the event. She doubted, save for Elise’s promised dance, that they would have much time to spare for their little charity case Mozu. It was so funny that spending time with vampires would be the highlight of a lively dance. A week ago, Mozu would have been shocked to hear the fact.

“Yes,” Xander replied, “I’m looking forward to seeing you in a ball gown.” He paused for a second, then abruptly looked away from her. “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he said, “The word has spread that you are a country girl, and the expectations of the other guests will not be high.”

She decided right then to tell him her feelings. “To be quite honest,” she said, “it doesn’t matter to me what the others think. My only care is my meeting with your father. I’m not sure I’ll pass as a country vampire, and I’m not sure that even if he does believe me, he’ll be willing to help me rebuild my town, or even provide compensation. And truth be told, Xander, I’m scared.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Oh, Mozu,” he said, “I understand. I’ve lived in my father’s shadow for centuries, speaking no word against him for fear of brutal punishment. And you, Mozu, you are so fragile…” His arm fell slowly, and Mozu let go.

“That sounds right hellish,” she said, “having no freedom to speak your mind.”

“I’ve learned to cope,” Xander said. “It may not appear so, but my mind wanders very often.”

Mozu knew this fact; she had guessed it many days ago. The way his eyes seemed to glaze over every now and then, the way he carefully selected his words, the way he clearly tried to speak only of the future and never the past, all indicated that sometimes tried to escape reality. If Mozu was a blood-sucking demon with a monster father and no real friends besides immediate family, she’d be an avid daydreamer too.

“I find it useful to distract myself,” Xander continued, “either with watching others, contemplating my current situation, planning for the future, or simply… wondering. There are physical actions that take my mind off of matters too, like long, meandering walks, or practicing piano, or dancing all alone. Say, Mozu, why don’t you and I practice that quadrille you were having trouble with?”

She eyed him warily. “Didn’t you say that that dance was just to impress the other guests?”

“Exactly,” he said, “and it is a noble excuse to do something mindless, is it not?”

Mozu smiled. “You’re right,” she said, and turned to him to curtsey.

Dancing in silence was odd. Usually, whoever was available at the time of Mozu’s dance lesson played the melody on piano or violin so that Mozu and her partner could dance along. Eventually, however, she grew used to the silence, her feet keeping track of the rhythm themselves.

“You are becoming a very good dancer,” said Xander.

“Nonsense,” she said, gazing over his shoulder at the wallpaper of the empty hall. “I’ve been a good dancer for years, I’m just now getting good at these fancy dances.”

This earned her a smile from Xander.

He was correct. The soft touch of his hand at her waist, the tapping of their feet against the floor, and the way he seemed to breath in time with the rhythm drove thoughts of next week’s meeting out of her mind.

“Do you suppose Camilla will dance with Miss Hinoka?” she said, bobbing slightly up and down with the rhythm.

He sighed. “I hope not. The two have been fraternizing more and more often lately, and no close friendship with a human ever ends well.”

“I think they want more than close friendship,” Mozu said with a smile, “My only wonder is whether Hinoka will become Hinoka Nohr or will Camilla become Camilla Hoshido.”

Xander only huffed and scowled.

“You’d really deny them what their hearts desire, Xander?” she said, looking up into his eyes as he pointedly looked away.

“It is not my place to permit or deny Camilla anything,” he said slowly, “but I do not approve of it. She is being too flighty. In the best possible outcome, Hinoka dies in a mere flash as all humans do, and in the worst…” He trailed off, still avoiding her gaze.

“Go ahead, say it.”

“In the worst case scenario, the little Hoshido woman ends up dying young, her blood filling our cups.”

“Your father…” said Mozu. Subconsciously, their dance had slowed. Eventually, they would have to reach a hard part in the steps, but it seemed now that moment would never come.

“A fine distraction I’ve provided,” Xander said bitterly. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you.”

“Don’t!” Mozu said. The word had slipped out without meaning, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts back up again. “It’s worse when I’m alone with my thoughts. If you’re not too busy right now, I’d appreciate the companionship.”

Xander looked at her briefly, and a rush of satisfaction came through Mozu’s heart. “Who am I to deny a lady such a request?” he said.

 

“So,” Mozu said, leaning back in the little garden bench, “you fellows can’t just drink animal blood?” The concept of vampires drinking blood still seemed very vague to Mozu, despite her having mulled it over many times as she gradually grew less and less afraid of the Nohr siblings. She had neither seen nor experienced the horror of it, and by now, her curiosity as to the machinations of these odious creatures overcame any lingering fear she had of the creatures in question.

“No,” said Xander, “though I wish we could. Although none of my family members have bitten into a living person for many years, there is still a lingering guilt that comes with the fact that one’s meal resulted in a man’s death, or at least his becoming very faint.”

“You buy it, don’t you?” she said, “I think I remember Camilla saying as much.”

“Yes,” he said, “it is shipped to us in bottles via a black market dealer. Most city vampires carry on this way, but price usually correlates positively with quality. Blood is best when fresh, and the healthier the source, the better. Additionally, there’s the question of sugar levels, which are up to the drinker’s personal tastes.” 

Mozu listened intently with morbid fascination.

Egged on by her attentiveness, Xander continued. “However, few enjoy anemic blood. The taste is too shallow, and when one eats nothing for weeks on end, it’s very unsatisfying.”

“You sound like you’re talking about wine,” Mozu said. “The Hoshido folks used to always say overtones of this, notes of that when describing a glass of wine, and I never understood why you’d spend so much time talking about it instead of just drinking the damned thing. But I suppose with blood–” She stopped herself mid-sentence, as completing it would require picturing herself as a vampire which was a very unsavory thought.

“It is different,” Xander said, sparing her the trouble. “To only ever consume one substance leads to an incredibly monotonous life, in my opinion. One can’t help but obsess over the details therein.”

“I suppose I understand,” said Mozu, looking out at the garden. It was early fall, so most of the flowers were gone, but no leaves had turned colors yet. “I still find it disgusting, though. You were once human, and now you survive off our blood.”

“Would you rather I starve?” he said softly, a smile on his face.

Mozu sighed. “Granted you and your siblings are kind people. But who is to say all vampires are like you? Some no doubt deserve a stake through their heart, and let heaven determine the fate of their souls. That occurs to me–” she turned to Xander and playfully touched his chest, “–do vampires have souls?” She knew she was acting far more forward than any well-bred lady should ever act, but Xander was a friend, and why should she treat him any different than one of her old friends back home?

“That is not for me to know, I believe,” he said, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.

“Good answer,” she said sarcastically.


	8. Dark and Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey wonderful readers im back with a new chapter freshly edited!! it's finally the party night i hope you enjoy~~~

The door to the ladies’ dressing room opened just a crack, and Xander’s heart froze in his chest. Out came Mozu, dressed in a lavish dress of light green. All made up with her hair arranged elegantly atop her head, Xander couldn’t help but stare. She seemed out of place among those who had been to many balls before, but radiant nevertheless.

“Are you ready, Miss Mozu?” he asked, extending his arm to her. He was to escort her into the ballroom per custom.

She nodded and took it, following him down the hall. “Do I look alright?” she whispered. “I’ll settle for alright, because I know I won’t be lookin’ like a practiced professional pretty lady like most of these girls are.”

Xander wanted to tell her that she looked simply outstanding, and knew that any proper gentleman would quickly devise a way to tell her so without sounding too rakish, but he somehow could not bring himself to say the words. “You look just fine,” he said, attempting a reassuring smile.

A servant opened the door for them, and before them sat the ballroom, decorated like he had never seen it before. Gold brocade curtains were draped over the walls with sheets of rumpled chiffon pinned to their sides, giving the room a hazy, ethereal appearance. A wide chandelier hung from the ceiling, and flickering gas lamps were mounted all around, decorated with crepe paper, casting a soft golden light over the room. At every table was a centerpiece of glass beads and gilded balls. Mozu, standing beside him, looked like a fairy that had just returned home to fairyland.

“Mr. Xander Nohr and his guest, Miss Mozu!” said Mrs. Hoshido, beaming as she stood up from her place to welcome them.

He bowed to her across the room, and gestured for Mozu to curtsey. Then, he walked her slowly across the still-empty dance floor. Despite the glowing magic of it all, a faint discomfort filled him as he glanced across the gazing eyes of his fellow guests. He felt then as if Mozu was a trophy, an expensive pocket watch or a piece of game that he was showing off for all to see, and their eyes would judge her worth for themselves. He considered murmuring to Mozu, asking if attending the dance was a bad idea, but that would be in bad form. They found their seats quickly after crossing the ballroom floor, and the feeling died away. 

Camilla and Leo entered together, and shortly after, since they had run out of brothers, came Elise accompanied by Mikoto’s eldest son, Ryoma. He could hear the gentle background music dying down– it was time for the first dance.

Mozu had promised her first dance to Elise. This gave Xander some peace of mind, as he had been worrying over some haughty young man stealing Mozu away and belaboring her with question after question and causing her to grow uncomfortable. After all, most knew of Mozu’s background; they wanted to see how far a young country girl could come over the span of a few days.

He approached Miss Hinoka, Mikoto’s eldest daughter and the object of Camilla’s affection, and asked for a dance. She agreed with apparent reluctance, either for fear of being berated over her relationship with his sister, or out of plain dislike of dancing.

Although Xander had planned to do the former, he was silent until the end of the set, after which he thanked her and quickly rushed back to his seat. Next came the lively quadrille that he and Mozu had practiced the day before. He sat out of this one, but watched Mozu with pride. A group of men sat playing cards at a corner table, but felt the need to keep his eye on her rather than join them as he usually would.

Mozu performed the quadrille almost perfectly, which he hoped was to the wonderment of his fellow partygoers. She had a knack for dancing, he decided. It had taken him months to get the steps of that particular dance down perfectly, whereas Mozu had approached his level with only a few days’ training.

Finally, the music came to a close, and Mozu ran to him, face flushed. “Why didn’t you come dance that set, Xander?” she said, “It isn’t too hard for you; I’ve seen you do it before!”

“I needed to clear my head,” he said.

“Dancing’s the best way to do that!” she pressed, reaching out her hand.

He laughed. “Miss Mozu, you’re all sweaty and red, I beseech you to sit here with me and regain your breath during this next set.”

“Okay, I will,” she said. Tired though she was, she turned, took the arm of the chair gracefully, and sunk softly into the chair next to him, in what seemed the most ladylike manner she could muster.

Xander appreciated this show of gracefulness, because he knew it was primarily meant for him. Mozu didn’t care what any of the other partygoers thought of her. Sure, she seemed a little shy, but Mozu was Mozu, and her pride in that fact was immeasurably charming to him. Any results of her lessons in gentle mannerisms that she showed at the ball were hence more meant to bring satisfaction to Xander and his siblings for their efforts.

As always when there was no task before him, Xander’s mind had wandered. He dropped his gaze from Mozu’s ruddy face and quickly looked back out at the dance floor. The dance had just begun, and he watched Elise take the floor with another young person across the room.

“Hey Xa–” Mozu looked around and noticed there was another party guest within earshot, then shot Xander a fleeting smirk. “Excuse me, Mr. Nohr?”

“Yes, Miss Mozu?”

“Might you point me in the direction of the nearest ladies’ room?”

He nodded. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t escort you myself.” It was an excuse to quit the busy room, if only for a few minutes. He stood up and offered her his arm, then escorted her quickly out of the ballroom and down the hall. The coolness and calm of the hallways was a welcome relief from the warm, loud ballroom, but he could still hear the orchestra playing softly. The tapping of their feet on the thick carpet blended into the background noise.

As they drew nearer, however, Xander made out a voice– Camilla’s. Just as he was beginning to piece together words spoken in a low, quiet tone, all went silent. He turned a corner, and his heart froze in his chest. A long hallway stretched before him, gas lamps flickering on the windowless walls, a red oriental rug stretching to its very end. There stood two figures, wrapped together in a kiss.

“Camilla!” Xander called before he could think.

Camilla, his sister, was with Miss Hinoka Hoshido.

He strode towards her as she sprung from her lover’s arms. “Camilla, what are you doing?”

“Xander,” she said coolly, “Is it not obvious what I’m doing?”

“Sister,” he roared, “your disregard for the family secrets has gone unchecked for long enough! It’s time I–”

“She knows,” said Camilla.

His breath stopped in his throat.

“She knows our secret, and she has promised not to tell her family of it. Her promise was borne not of curses, per your preferred method of dealing with humans, but of genuine love for me.”

Mozu was no longer by Xander’s side. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her standing still at the other end of the hallway.

“Yes,” Camilla continued, “Miss Hinoka, as a human, will soon die. But eventually we must cut ties with all of our current business partners, the Hoshido family included, in order to protect the secret of our immortality. If telling Hinoka my secret means I may spend more time with her than the amount which our grim fate dictates, then I shall gladly accept her into my life.”

“But Camilla,” Xander said, voice now lowered, “Any lies she tells her family to justify being with you will fall apart eventually. Such webs of secrets and half-truths are never built to last.”

“Brother,” she said, “You forget that we live in one of such webs. If our secret is revealed, and ruin comes to our family, was it not worth it for a moment spent drinking love’s sweet nectar? Have you emotion enough to understand my point of view?” She glanced behind him at Mozu. Noting his silence with a cold smile, she continued: “And just what are you doing with Miss Mozu so far from the ballroom? Surely the two of you are not heading home alone.”

“If you must know,” he said, squaring his shoulders, “I was showing her to a water closet. And don’t change the subject. What of Father? What will he do to your little mistress?”

At that, Camilla looked away from both Hinoka and Xander. “What of Father?” she mused softly.

Her tone of voice sent shivers down his spine.

“Camilla, we should go,” said Hinoka. “I have better things to do than argue.”

“Duly noted,” she replied sweetly. Within a few seconds, they had both vanished out some unseen door, leaving Xander and Mozu alone.

“I apologize for that,” Xander said.

Silently, Mozu walked up to him and took his hand in hers.


	9. Dancing With Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody I'm here with another update!!! I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out so I hope you enjoy! Just a warning my dumb ass is probably going to attempt doing nano this year so this fic is going to take a hiatus! See you all lovelies soon!

“Thank you for waiting,” Mozu said, shutting the ladies’ room door behind her. 

“Of course,” said Xander. “I suppose we should find Leo and Elise and leave early. Unless that would arouse too much suspicion. What say you, Mozu?”

He was acting more scattered than usual; the encounter with Camilla had clearly shaken him.

“Well,” Mozu said softly, “I would prefer to head back to the ballroom. I haven’t had the chance to dance with you yet.”

Xander seemed taken aback, which made Mozu giggle.

“What,” she said, “do you not want to be seen dancing with a little charity case like me?”

“You know that is not true of me,” he said, “So very well. I will dance with you.”

The musicians were in between songs when they arrived back in the ballroom. “Miss Mozu,” Xander said, bowing before her, “May I have this dance?”

The soft chatter of voices was soon drowned out by a slow, sweet melody, which started soft and rose to full volume in a gentle crescendo.

“Of course you may,” said Mozu with a curtsey, and together they walked onto the floor. 

All night long, she had been trying to put on a brave face. If she had not been feeling anxious about the future already, the crowd and noise would likely not have bothered her, but as it stood, she had felt overwhelmed. Now, however, with her feet moving to the music, Xander’s hand at her waist, and their eyes locked together, she was finally at peace. Each step came naturally; each beam of golden light that reflected in Xander’s eyes was a comfort to her, assuaging her fears of the coming week. Now she could smile truly, not from a place of sarcasm or politeness, but out of real happiness. She was glad she had asked Xander to stay.

In her happiness lay hope. The Nohr family’s secret had been revealed to Miss Hinoka, and the family had not faced immediate ruin. Hinoka and Camilla seemed like they would be fine together as a couple, at least for the time being. They loved each other, which made the risk worth it. Love was more important than anything else.

“Love matters most…”

“Hm?” Xander said, raising his eyebrows. “Beg pardon?”

Mozu hadn’t realized she’d said the words out loud. “It’s nothin’,” she said. “When I’m out sowing seeds or pulling weeds I often talk to myself or hum. It’s a bad habit, I s’pose.”

He smiled. “Talk to yourself all you want, it’s no bother to me.”

The song ended softly, with Mozu pressed close to Xander’s side. “Good work,” he whispered, and the pair went to sit back down at their table.

The rest of the night passed happily for Mozu. She showed her fire spell to several amused onlookers, she danced with some of Xander’s rich friends, and she spent time chatting with Elise and a few of the dance’s younger attendees. By the time the festivities started drawing to a close, she felt a pleasant sort of tiredness coupled with satisfaction.

Xander, who had resigned himself to a game of cards about an hour ago, stood up from his seat at last and started walking towards the table. Mozu could tell instantly from his face that he did not share her good mood. Their shared dance had apparently been nothing but a short escape from his feelings about the confrontation with Camilla. 

“Miss Mozu,” he said, approaching her, “The hour approaches midnight, which is the agreed upon time to head back home.”

“Right,” she said with a suppressed yawn. “May I help round up your siblings?”

“One does not ‘round up’ siblings, Mozu–”

“Xander,” came a sharp voice from behind her. It was Leo. “Elise and I are ready to return home at your and Miss Mozu’s convenience.”

“And what about Camilla, where’s she?” Elise said.

“I’m here,” said Camilla from behind Mozu’s shoulder, close enough to make her jump in her seat. She hadn’t seen Camilla in the ballroom at all since she and Xander had returned; it was like she had just now popped out of nowhere. 

Xander’s face was completely blank. “Excellent,” he said, “Let us depart.”

The conversation between Xander, Camilla, and Leo on their way to the coatroom was unbelievably light. They talked of the various refreshments served, who’s dancing was best out of the guests, and how the party compared to other balls of similar scale. Had Mozu not known of the events that had transpired that night, she never would have guessed that Xander and Camilla held any resentful feelings towards each other at all.

Elise, however, proved different. “Hey,” she said as she donned her pink wool coat, “what’s gotten into you all?”

“What do you mean?” said Camilla, eyes wide.

“Well,” she said, “you’ve been protruding your lips just a teeny bit more than normal, and Xander’s tone of voice is lower than it usually is, and your expressions change slightly when you look at each other. What’s going on?”

Xander huffed and pulled on his coat. “You mustn’t read too deeply into trifling little gestures, Elise,” he said.

“No,” said Leo, “she’s right. I noticed it too.”

Mozu swallowed thickly, feeling as if to make a single sound would be out of turn for her.

“Dear Leo and Elise,” purred Camilla, turning towards the door, “What caused you to believe you have any right to know about small disagreements between Xander and I? Certainly you have no business prying.”

“You’re better than this, Camilla,” Leo said.

She sighed. “You are right,” she said, “I will explain once we get into the carriage.”

The cold and damp night air greeted them as they stepped outside.

“No you will not,” said Xander, “I’ll give the explanation–”

“Oh, don’t bicker!” Elise interrupted, “Mozu, do you know what the matter is?”

She nodded apprehensively as their carriage pulled up in front of the mansion doors.

“I implore you to tell me and Elise what is going on,” said Leo.

The four siblings crowded into the carriage, followed by Mozu. She took a long, trembling breath, then turned towards Leo and Elise. “Camilla and Hinoka are lovers now,” she said.

Xander cut in, “Each other’s _ mistresses _ , not–”

He was interrupted by a peal of laughter from Elise. “That’s all there is? We thought Camilla had accidentally killed somebody and Xander was mad because the blood had stained the Hoshido family’s nice rugs and the reason Camilla wasn’t in the ballroom that whole time was because she had to clean up the body!”

“ _ You _ thought so, Elise,” grumbled Leo.

The tension had been lifted slightly– Xander seemed more at peace, which satisfied Mozu.

She wondered why the union between the two ladies made her so happy; why she took so much satisfaction in the fact that yes, a human woman could love an immortal demon. After all, Xander disapproved, so why shouldn’t she? 

Xander was now arguing back and forth with Camilla, gesticulating slightly with his hands. He seemed passionate now, but more wrapped up in the debate than he was angry about its topic. It was good to see him calmer.

Fixing his handsome face with a doleful gaze, Mozu sighed deeply. She couldn’t deny her feelings much longer.

“Are you angry because we are both women?” Camilla said, tone almost playful, “Would you rather I bear you a litter of nieces and nephews in whom flows our family’s own cursed blood?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” Xander said, “I simply think it an ill-fitted match. What if she drinks too much wine at a family gathering and spills out our secret for all to hear? What if she grows old and wants you to die by her side, cutting off all your potential for the future?”

“You think quite poorly of a woman you barely know, Xander,” she replied, “Is your faith in humanity so shallow that these notions strike rational fear in your heart?”

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “No, but their occurrences are not impossible. And as for humans, they are weak and fragile creatures more than anything. The idea of powerful beings such as us marrying humans is rather unsettling. What purpose could such a relationship have?”

Mozu huffed softly, just to remind Xander that she was there. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if his speaking so bluntly about humans while she was listening was a sign of rudeness or of trust.

“Tell me,” Camilla said slowly, “Have you never seen a creature so small, so weak, yet so filled to the brim with the will to live, with so much fire inside of it? So wonderful that you cannot help but to want to protect it with all your body and soul?”

Xander glanced at Mozu, then blinked and looked back up at Camilla.

She continued, “It happens to me all the time. Humans, animals, even the little brown caterpillars that brave the November cold each year. My very core loves these things, they–” She looked at Xander. “–I feel as if it is my duty to keep them safe. Hinoka is one of such creatures, but she is special. Somehow, despite her fragility, I feel like she is somewhat of my equal. I want to do more for her than just protect her, and I want her to help me in similar ways. Surely you can understand my point of view to at least a small degree, Xander. I know somewhere in your heart you and I feel the same.”

“Camilla,” Xander said, smirking slightly, “you might know best that I am as stubborn as a mule, so I won’t concede. I still find your relationship with Miss Hinoka unnatural. But I won’t stand in your way any longer. You trust her, and I trust you, so in turn I’ll suppress any fears about Miss Hinoka bringing ruin upon our family.”

“That’s all I need,” she said, smiling.

Mozu fought back a wide yawn. It was times like these that the difference in how much sleep vampires and humans needed became very apparent. She opened the curtain of her glass-paned carriage window and gazed out at the passing street lamps as they rode back to Nohr Mansion in silence.


	10. A Rotten Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know how last chapter i said i was going to do nano? yeah that was a lie i wrote like three sentences rip  
> anyway im baaaaack with a new chapter!!! it's a bit long compared to the others; sorry about that. hope you guys enjoy!!! <333

Mozu took a long sip from her flask of cranberry juice. “Yes,” she said, “I think I’m ready.” She was clearly not ready to walk into Garon Nohr’s office. Her body trembled like a leaf, and every noise that echoed down the hall leading up to the foreboding doors made her flinch.

Mostly, Xander felt worry. Mozu was fragile, fleeting like a late autumn snowflake falling to its inevitable demise on some city pavement. Like a snowflake, she could also be caught and destroyed before her life was meant to end. But she was no melting bit of snow on a child’s gloved hand. She was a human, alive and full of warmth, marching boldly into the den of a murderer.

However, he was also empathetic towards her. Knowing the things that his father had done, that he was willing and capable of, made him fear in her place. The man knew no mercy, saw no distinction between justice and murder, between loved ones and criminals.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He had considered this idea before, but some logical reason had caused him to immediately tell himself no. Now, however, he had forgotten the reason, and against very nature, he pushed the doubt aside. “Mozu,” he said, taking her hand, “If it pleases you, I will accompany you into my father’s office and stand by your side as you plead your case.” 

“I’d like that very much,” she said.

Xander nodded. No reason he had for remaining outside as Mozu talked to his father could ever override Mozu’s wish now. She wanted him there, so he would be there, and if Garon tried to hurt her he could stand between them and keep her safe.

He stopped himself mid-thought, looking down at Mozu. Ideas of contradicting his father verbally still made him repress cringes of shame. He had never dared to think of physically fighting him. Nevertheless, he thought of appeasing Garon, weighing it against the thought of Mozu’s safety. Despite what his mind told him was the correct, filial thing to value, every corner of his heart wanted to protect Mozu. In any other situation, he would consider himself chivalrous for defending those weaker than him. Now, however, even though he knew he should not oppose his father who had granted him so much, he would wrongfully serve as a shield to this little human damsel if the situation got violent.

“Very well,” he said, squeezing her hand. He imagined his cold grasp was not very comforting, but she squeezed back anyway.

Together, they stood firm and steadfast as they walked down the hall. The door to Garon’s office loomed in front of them. All the doors in Nohr Mansion were uncannily tall to accommodate its master’s fearsome height, but this one seemed even more vast.

Gently, Mozu knocked.

“Enter,” came a deep voice.

Mozu stepped inside and Xander followed, closing the door behind him.

“My heir,” Garon said slowly. He sat leaned back in his large mahogany chair, idly smoking a cigar. His desk, which faced the door, was surrounded by tall cabinets. Some had glass panes displaying books, others rows of drawers containing things the eye could not see. “Introduce me to this young woman; I’ve heard about her.”

“Father,” Xander said, “I am pleased to introduce you to Miss Mozu, a young vampire from the countryside that comes to deliver a complaint about company actions. Miss Mozu, my father, Mr. Garon Nohr.”

“I presume,” he said slowly, “that this ‘complaint’ of hers cannot be sorted out in court?”

Mozu tightened her grip around Xander’s hand. Knowing her, she was miffed at his impoliteness.

“It cannot,” she said firmly, though Xander detected a slight quaver in her voice. “What I wish is not money, but restoration.”

Garon raised his eyebrows, taking a puff of his cigar.

She swallowed. “You razed my town to drill for oil. I know that you bought the land legally from the town government by means of having them turn it all into industrial zoning. I believe that in doing so, you should have taken into consideration the livelihood of the townspeople. We were given no compensation, and most of us had nowhere to go but the city, the environment of which is too harmful for many of us to survive in. This being so, my grandmother was taken by the smog in the city. Hence, she is a victim of the Nohr Oil Trust. I come here with one request: to have my town back, and to have the livelihood of the townspeople restored.”

Her voice had steadied as she spoke. Her eyes were clear, her posture straight, and her expression resolute. Xander was incredibly proud of her.

Garon huffed. “You say your grandmother was killed by smog.”

“Yes, sir.”

He glowered down at her. Even as he leaned back in his chair, Xander noticed, his father’s gaze was still higher than Mozu’s. “Human,” he said.

Xander froze. Mozu had forgotten completely about her lie as she was making her request.

“No, sir,” she said smoothly, “I’m a vampire.”

Had she not realized her mistake?

“Vampires,” said Garon, “cannot be killed by smog.”

“I know,” Mozu said, “but my grandmother was not a vampire.”

Xander stood still, unable to look at either of them.

“Like all vampires,” Mozu said slowly, “I am undead. I died some fifty years ago, when I was but a young lady. You may have heard from others that I am older. Unfortunately, that is a fabrication made up by myself. Out in the country, some of the older fellows like to poke fun at us newer vampires– er, they enjoy maligning us, so I tend to lie about my age. As for my grandmother, I wanted to take care of her until the day she died, so I had to keep myself alive in order to do so. Hence, the townspeople and their blood were very important to me.”

“You are a vampire,” Garon said.

Mozu squeezed Xander’s hand very slightly.

He continued, “So if I were to take you by the neck and strangle you, you would not suffocate?”

Xander’s breath stopped in his throat. Vampires did not need to breath, but he and many others chose to anyways, as the air cooled the body and freshened the blood. Mozu, on the other hand, did not have much of a choice.

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly, “but I would not enjoy it.”

“Father,” Xander said, “I apologize for butting in, but I believe that discussing Miss Mozu’s request would be best for your schedule.”

“Very well,” he said, then took a long drag of his cigar. After blowing out a slow stream of smoke into the stuffy office air, he turned to Mozu. “My answer is no,” he said.

Mozu interjected: “But Mr. Nohr–”

Silently, Xander tugged on her hand, and she became silent at once.

“Thank you, Mr. Nohr,” she said after a moment’s pause, and quietly followed Xander out the door.

With a soft thump, the door shut. Mozu let go of his hand and gave a long sniffle.

“Mozu, I am so sorry,” Xander said, “I promise we will find a way to–”

He was interrupted by a little gasp. After a moment, he realized it was not a gasp but a sob. Mozu looked up at him and wiped a tear from her eye.

“I’m going back in,” she said, “I won’t give up until I get what I want or he kills me.”

The words made Xander flinch. He had never seen Mozu cry before, and had no idea what to say. “You can’t,” he said after a pause. “I won’t stand for him hurting you, so you can’t go back in there.”

“I’m going!”

“No, Mozu–”

She stamped her foot and squared her shoulders, swollen, tearful eyes boring into his. “Xander Nohr,” she said through gritted teeth, “I will get my home back and avenge my grandmother, no matter what peril the task puts me in. If you try to stop me from stepping through that door, I will bite and claw at you until you have no choice but to restrain me with force. Do you want that?”

“No, dammit!” He took her hand again, which she immediately slipped free. “I won’t let you go in there without me there protecting you.”

“Then come with me!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He froze. The two words had hit him like a battering ram. It was not the question that struck him, though, but the answer.  _ He already said no. _ Going back into that office and continuing to plead with his father would make his father unhappy. He couldn’t bear to be responsible for upsetting him. Not only would he face Garon’s dissatisfaction, but also Xander simply was not the type of person who would knowingly provoke his own father. Supporting this young woman’s campaign against him was not obedient, not loyal, not trustworthy; pushing back against a man to whom he owed so much was not exemplary of the person Xander was. Was this hesitance to oppose Garon the reason Xander had not wanted to accompany her in the first place? Did he know from the start that Garon would turn down Mozu’s request?

On the other hand, there was the question of Mozu. With the threat she posed, he could either allow her in the office to her immense danger, or risk hurting her by restraining her. This left him only one option.

“You will not go back to see my father,” Xander said.

“Damn you, Xander, I–”

“I will.”

Mozu’s eyes widened. “You’d really try to…”

“Yes,” he said, “I’m going in alone, and will continue to vouch for you. I request that you please stay here.”

She silently wiped another tear.

Without a word, he stepped into the office and shut the door behind him.

“Xander,” Garon said slowly. “I hope that this is unrelated to that… travesty of a request you approached me with a few minutes ago.”

He bowed his head. “No, father. Instead, I urge you to reconsider.”

“For what?” he said, looking towards the tall shelves to his right. “For the people who were relocated to the cities in the name of progress?”

Xander swallowed. “For Miss Mozu,” he said. “Although cities are indeed the future of this country, I empathize with Mozu’s plight.” He paused, and steeled himself before saying the next words. “I assume you do too, Father.”

“No, Xander,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You assume wrongly. You are an excellent son and will make an excellent leader once I pass the company on to you. But you still have much to learn. Hence, I will teach you this now: hold no empathy for vampires that consort with humans. Such affiliations are signs of weakness. Humans are fragile, flighty creatures, and relationships with them drag one down to their lowly level. I don’t pity Mozu whatsoever.”

He felt as if there was a knot in his stomach. Never before had the contrasting natures of his loyalty to his father and his friendship with Mozu been laid so bare before him.

Although Camilla’s romance with Miss Hinoka could serve as a potent arguing point, he wasn’t sure whether or not his father knew about this relationship. If he did know about them, he chose to say these words anyway. Xander decided he’d rather not bring the subject up.

Garon continued, “Also, I must ask you this: are you sure this woman is truly a vampire? She smells… ripe.”

Xander shivered slightly. “I had similar doubts when I first met her, Father,” he said. “But she has proven herself thoroughly to me. I’ve seen her fangs, and tasted some of the blood she keeps in that little flask.”

He gritted his teeth. “My son shared blood with such a lowly, uncivilized creature… I’m disappointed in you, Xander.” 

The words stung. He said the only words he knew to say: “I’m sorry, Father. I will not be so careless in the future.” Within seconds, he gathered his thoughts again. “But does she not deserve some respect, if not your empathy?”

“No, Xander,” he said, voice lowering, “You have reason enough in your head to know that she deserves nothing.”

“You’re wrong!” Xander shouted.

There was a long silence. Garon looked taken aback. He seemed as if he wanted to lash out at him, but his next words were quiet. “Tell me why you think so.”

He cleared his throat, eyes lowered. “Mo– Miss Mozu is… sweet, and a fast learner, and very resilient, and holds her beliefs very close to her. She’d sacrifice everything if it meant doing what is right for the people she loves, so I think she deserves at least some appreciation.”

Garon sighed. “Get out of my office, Xander,” he said coldly, “come back when you’ve let go of this wretched woman.”

He stood still.

“This attachment is making you soft, and softness leads to rot. A rotten man, one who lets some woman corrode his willpower, his resolve, his ambition, his inherent strength and capability, is not worthy of being called my son. Get out, and come back once you cut away the rot festering in your heart.”

Xander’s first instinct was to protest: his feelings towards Mozu were not as he described, and what’s more, it was strength she brought about in him, not weakness. But he couldn’t go on the defensive. “Then what would make Miss Mozu respectable in your eyes?”

“I told you,” he growled, edging forward in his seat, “a vampire such as she should not fraternize with humans!”

“But she was posing as one so she could take care of her grandmother; she was in the right!” The conversation was spiraling out of hand. He didn’t know enough about Mozu’s life to make a cogent argument, and he could be metaphorically knocked down at any instant.

“Xander,” he said, “If this woman had any ounce of strength in her, she would have killed her family members for their blood long before we came oil drilling.”

The words hit him like a whip, rendering him speechless for a moment. He imagined how pitiful he must look to his father. His head was bowed, his hands folded in front of him, feet pointing slightly inwards. No wonder his father thought it right to teach him things as one would a child. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to straighten up, to fight back again.  _ She would have killed her family members… _ From Garon’s mouth, the words flowed so effortlessly, not a trace of pain or hesitance, not in the least bit superficial. Mozu would never kill people she loved. For him to imply that she, and by extension anyone, could rationally do such a thing made his stomach tie up in knots.

“But, Father,” Xander said, the words drifting thoughtlessly from his lips, “Mozu had little contact with other vampires. Her grandmother and the townspeople were her only company. We… Vampires need companionship, too…”

“Get out of my office, Xander!”

He realized his breath had stopped in his throat. It was no matter. He didn’t need to breathe.

He bowed slightly. “Yes, Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> garon and xander:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7HD2xG92-0&t=2s


	11. In Defeat

Mozu spent the next few weeks feeling as if she were in a sort of limbo. It was over, she had lost, and now she had nowhere to go. The little “lessons” that she had taken had stopped, and she was left with nothing to do but roam the halls and hope wistfully for a snatch of conversation with one of her vampire hosts, anything to fill the emptiness in her heart, no matter how cold.

One of such wanderings took place late at night. Mozu couldn’t sleep, but she had no desire to stay awake either; she did not want to lend more time to the anxious, desperate feelings that would inevitably worm their way into her waking thoughts. So, she searched for a distraction, or at the very least something that could help her sleep.

The mansion was drafty, and the warmth of summer had long since faded. The slow changing of the weather was one of the few things keeping Mozu tied down to linear time– nothing mattered, all was a blur. 

She shook her head and centered her mind back on the moment. Never before in Mozu’s life had she let go of the objective in front of her. She was a down-to-earth, practical woman who got what she wanted, and such a lifestyle had never steered her wrong. Any roadblocks she had encountered always came and went –a bad storm, a stubborn shopkeeper, a mountain of snow or a nasty flu– and she took some comfort in this impermanence. But here, in Nohr Mansion, late at night, as her feet tread softly on a dusty hallway rug, the figurative wall before her seemed truly unbreakable. Her town was destroyed. Her grandmother’s spirit could not be avenged. The evil leader of the Nohr Oil Trust could not be stopped. She was in the company of vampires, and vampires dealt in eternity.

Warm milk, maybe warm milk would do the trick. The hallways were completely empty of potential conversation partners, so she headed towards the kitchen, turning left into a wider hall.

Quiet voices echoed softly up the hallway. Somehow, Mozu felt as if they came from secret conversation, as if the words being interchanged were deeply sensitive and personal. She couldn’t make out anything coherent from so far away; she’d need to get closer if she wanted to listen in.

She sighed and thought to herself,  _ Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back. _ As silently as she could manage, Mozu crept down the hallway toward the source of the sound.

In spite of herself, her imagination was sparked by the mystery.  _ It could be Camilla showing Xander a song she composed for Miss Hoshido. Or perhaps Xander and Leo discussing family secrets. Maybe it’s Elise begging Xander to tell her said secrets. Does Elise know that sort of spooky family business knowledge? _

As she padded softly across the long rug, she noticed a soft, colorless light spilling out from underneath the door. Realization dawned on her.

Walking closer, her suspicions were confirmed: a paper placard was attached to the door, upon which was hand inked what Mozu presumed was the same phrase in three different languages. At the bottom quarter of the placard was the phrase in English, LEO’S ROOM, complete with a compact but expertly drawn flourish. Underneath was a smaller placard set into a simple frame reading DO NOT ENTER on its right half. A tarnished piece of metal hid the left half of the paper, which could presumably be slid to cover the “DO NOT ENTER” when Leo had the mind to allow others in.

“No, I don’t think so.” It was Leo’s voice, coming from inside his room.  _ His magic must be causing the colorless light, _ Mozu thought,  _ but who is he talking to? Himself? _ Smart people talked to themselves, Mozu’s grandmother had once said. This being so, Mozu fancied herself rather intelligent for the times she often muttered notes to herself as she worked.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Leo’s voice. “No, dammit! You know me better than that, I hate–” He hiccuped, cutting his sentence short. In place of his voice’s usual crispness was a hoarse edge; its usual clipped, professional pitch was gone, leaving his tone almost singsong in its formlessness. 

Mozu’s eyes widened. Was he crying? She had half a mind to burst through the door and see if he was alright– she knew some first aid, and didn’t want Leo to be hurt in whatever glowing magic he was doing inside.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hollow, inhuman groan from within, like wind raging across hills. It dragged on for a few seconds, wavering in pitch until it faded. A chill ran down Mozu’s spine. Whatever had made that sound was not of this earth.

Another, deeper call sounded softly out, like a mass of churchgoers singing a hymn, but without any of the pleasantness.

“You two are right, of course,” Leo said, “but my livelihood is tied to this family, despicable though my father may be. And you fellows, of course. I…” 

_ You fellows. _ Leo was talking to the dark spirits.

There came a sound like the creaking of a door, but it too was otherworldly and inorganic. 

“Don’t make me say those words,” he said, and sniffed, “Vampires aren’t supposed to love.”

Mozu swallowed silently.

The wind voice again. Then the creaking door, as if assenting.

There was a pause. “Yes,” Leo said quietly, “I don’t want to agree with you, but I do. If only I didn’t know my brother so well, then I would not be able to see that new spark that’s come into his eyes. I see it though, I see it and I hate it.” The next few words were too quiet for Mozu to hear, so she waited a moment. Luckily, he grew loud enough again: “...know it’s not only wrong, it’s disgusting of me to want that. But by the devil, I do, I want it! I want to feel that way about someone, be it anyone! Even if I permitted myself to… grow weak… I’m not sure whether I could. I don’t think I ever will.”

There was a long silence.

“I don’t think I ever will,” he repeated, voice wavering, “I’m damned, am I not? This fate that he picked for me… does not allow…” His voice grew too quiet to hear again.

_ This fate that he picked for me… _ Could the “he” refer to Xander? What hand might he have in Leo’s fate? Perhaps instead he was referring to some dark spirit he had a run-in with many years ago.

“Ugh, I feel filthy just saying this!” Leo said, “It’s not right. Not for me. Let the girl fall head-over-heels for Xander, and let him respond how he likes; I’ve no role in the matter. I’ve no…”

Mozu’s face flushed red, all of a sudden angry. It was only a nudge she felt; she was only  _ somewhat _ in love with Xander, and Leo had no right knowing even that!

“I’m damned!” came the harsh, choked sound of Leo’s voice.

Her anger quickly faded, replaced by the overwhelming feeling that she should not be listening to this conversation.

The hymn-voiced spirit started crying hastily, and through the din of its consoling remarks Mozu rushed off down the hallway back the way she came.

Thoughts swirled through her head, unable to straighten themselves out. Vampires lived forever. Leo was upset. Mozu was stuck in a house of vampires with nowhere else to go, and Mozu was somewhat in love with Xander.

 

* * *

 

Mozu was awoken by a distant scream. She was engulfed in heat; her eyes snapped open. The room was aflame. 

Jumping out of bed, she glanced around. The hallway was the only way out; the window lead to a tall drop below. Said window shattered with an ear-splitting crash, and she ran out the door. Everything in the hallway was burning, even the rug beneath her feet. She ran, ran, bolting downstairs towards the exit.

Briefly, she thought of the scream that had woke her; undoubtedly that of some servant. But she knew she could not carry someone with her; there was nothing she could do to help and still make it out alive.

The second spiral staircase was the last; she knew the closest door out; she would be safe in minutes.

The stairs were burning. Her left foot stepped down on the step before her, but before she could reach the next, it caved downwards. She screamed. Her hand flailed wildly for the banister, her fingers found it and grasped, but gravity’s might overcame their feeble grip. Flames lapped at her skirts as she fell through.

The stairs below smashed into her body, then with a crash she broke through and landed on the ground. The wind was knocked from her lungs; smoke stung her eyes; everything was burning; her consciousness was slipping fast.

“Mozu!”

That was Xander’s voice.

Loud steps sounded over the din. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, and she was lifted back up into the smoke. In a moment, the cool air of outside enveloped her, but she could still barely breathe.

“Mozu,” Xander whispered.

He had rescued her. How romantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me what you thought of this chapter!!!!!!!! and again thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	12. Sunset and Moonrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY FOR THE CLIFF HANGER LAST CHAPTER I FEEL RLLY BAD  
> i was considering putting another cliffie at the end of this one but i decided not to so its a lil short sorry 囧

The Nohr siblings would stay in a hotel. That much was decided as the firefighters’ trucks blared to Nohr Mansion, after which Xander ordered a carriage be readied for him immediately. He rushed Mozu to a doctor, and only after ascertaining that she had sustained no permanent damage and hadn’t broken any bones did he reunite with his siblings at their chosen hotel. The still-unconscious Mozu lay limp in his arms.

Upon their arrival, according to Camilla, the clerk had recognized them as children of the Nohr family. “Even though it was the middle of the night, he booked four rooms for us right then,” she said with a sad smile, sitting gracefully down on her room’s bed.

“It was so nice of him!” Elise chimed in.

“Elise,” Leo growled, “considering our house just burned down, you could stand to be a bit somber for once.”

Xander looked down at Mozu. Her chest rose and fell with each soft breath. “Four rooms?” he said.

“Oh,” said Camilla. “You’re right, Xander. I’ll go downstairs and request a fifth for Mozu.”

Xander hesitated before answering. “There’s no need,” he said, “I don’t intend to leave her side until she wakes up. She may take my bed. Are all the servants unharmed?”

Camilla nodded. “While you were at the doctor’s office, we received a telegram with the number of servants recovered, and they’re all safe.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. None of them dared mention Garon.

“I believe I will call on Hinoka tomorrow,” Camilla said. “Xander, would you like to accompany me?”

He paused for a moment. If Mozu was still unconscious, he would need to stay behind. Otherwise, talking to the Hoshido family might be of some use.

“I’ll see tomorrow,” Xander finally replied. “Mozu should be in bed.” With a nod, he left Camilla’s room and carried Mozu into his, and laid her down gently on the bed. After covering her with blankets, he sat down in a chair by a vast window overlooking the sea. The moon cast a pale path across the rippling waves, rising in the east like the sun’s ghostly shadow.

Hours passed. The waves moved ceaselessly, incessantly lapping the shore like worries on a troubled mind. The hotel itself was silent, but the far-off sound of the ocean below seemed deafening. Finally, in the midst of his umpteenth wave of doubt, Xander was brought back to his senses by a small sigh from the bed.

“Mozu,” he said softly.

There was no response. She was asleep.

He stood up; he wanted to sit down on the bed next to her small body. Was this permissible because she was so infirmed? He had come much closer to her at the ball a few weeks ago, but she was awake then. With a sigh, he resolved to stand at the window. The moon passed, and the sun rose.

Camilla came in a few hours later and asked if he would be visiting the Hoshido family with her. He declined.

The day stretched on in silence. By late afternoon, Xander had counted forty-seven pairs of footsteps that had passed by his door. He knew the sound of his family members’ gaits by heart, and none of them he recognized as Camilla’s. Mozu had stirred several times, but showed no sign of waking. Neither Leo nor Elise ever knocked on his door, only a hotel room service man bearing a plate of food that Xander set aside.

Finally, as the moon began to rise once more, he heard another small groan. “Xander?” came Mozu’s bleary voice.

He cleared his throat softly. “What do you need, Mozu?”

She grabbed slowly at her pillow, still not fully awake. “Come lie next to me,” she said.

The sentence hit him like a falling tree. He could not do such a thing. Blurting out the first excuse that came to his mind, he said, “My body is cold.” As the words left his lips, he realized their foolishness.

“Yes, it is, and I’m covered in burns, you silly man.” Mozu opened her eyes and seemed to realize a beat too late the sharpness of her words. She looked down at her blanketed body, then up at Xander. “At least come and cool these covers down for me.”

“Why don’t I take the covers off for you,” he said.

She shook her head and closed her eyes again. “I’m not ready to see how nasty my wounds look.”

Before dawn, the doctor had wrapped her right leg and left foot up in bandages and attached a wide swath of gauze to the side of her ribcage. She was wearing a crude white shift issued by the doctor’s office. Since only her dress had caught fire, none of her skin had been burned black, so she was in remarkably good condition considering the situation. Still, Xander decided not to contest her.

Silently, he continued to stand by the window, gazing apprehensively down at Mozu.

“Would you prefer if I asked you politely?” she mumbled. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up at him and tried to sit up, but immediately winced and lay back down. “Would it humor Mr. Nohr,” she said slowly, “to assist this young lady in easing the temperature of her–” She paused for a moment, presumably looking for a word to use instead of  _ bedsheets _ . “–her most generously provided hotel accommodations?”

_ Nobody would ever know, right? _ He caught himself halfway through this thought– how could he excuse himself like this? But Miss Mozu had made a request; who was he to deny an injured family guest what she wanted? He considered the situation. He and Mozu wouldn’t even be touching. Surely it would hurt no one to curl up together–  _ like husband and wife. _ Despite its harmlessness, acting as husband and wife with a mere friend was an immoral thing to do.

“It’s alright if you’re too uncomfortable with the concept,” Mozu said, “you don’t have to.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side, gaze softening in resignation. “If you wish it, Miss Mozu, I shall lie next to you.”

Mozu smiled, watching Xander take off his shoes and crawl under the covers beside her. “You’re so polite to ladies,” she said sleepily, “I like that. A real gentleman, inside and out.”

His blood levels were getting low, but a blush rose to his cheeks anyway.

“Could I hold your hand?” she asked.

Xander nodded and extended his arm from under the blankets. 

Taking it, Mozu hummed softly. “That’s lovely, thank you,” she said. Moving closer, she clasped his large, strong hand between her small, callused ones, fingers messily intertwining. His forearm pressed against her bosom, and everywhere Xander touched seemed fiery warm.

“Are you going back to sleep?” he asked softly.

“Maybe,” she said through a wide, uncovered yawn.

“It will be dark again soon,” Xander said. Camilla had likely decided to stay the night at the Hoshido family mansion.

“For now,” said Mozu, “I think I’ll simply rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbqh i feel like im kinda bastardizing mozu's characterization in favor of making her sassier im sorry mozuuuuuuu ill do better in future chapters  
> anyway thanks for readinggggggg mwah (^3^)~<3


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